


Drawn in Through Mere Words

by Alopex



Category: Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, CRACK SHIPPING AYYY I do not care anymore, Fluff, M/M, Poetry, pinescone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 01:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2603321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alopex/pseuds/Alopex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper, it's rude to look through other people's stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drawn in Through Mere Words

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is complete crack. No, I really don't care anymore b/c this is cute and refreshing.
> 
> Look, I could go into so many details and back story but let's not, let's be real here I don't have much time and neither do you so let's just get to the meat. Maybe we'll do some back story another day.
> 
> things that are implied: these guys have been friends for a while.  
> They're in high school here but idk if same grade or one grade apart it doesn't matter something like that.

Evenings like this were what Dipper and Wirt enjoyed the most - lounging about in someone's room, chatting the evening away lazily as they shared their experiences and thoughts. At one point, Wirt offered to make some tea for the both of them, to which Dipper heartily agreed as the temperature outside was beginning to drop and nothing warmed the soul better than a steaming mug of earl gray.

Left alone, Dipper gazed around the room, taking in all the little details of Wirt's life. A few posters promoting bands and events Dipper hasn't even heard of hung on the walls, side-by-side with scraps of paper tacked on hurriedly. A lot of them consisted of heavily marked lines of what seemed to be fragments of poetry and music, though a few to-do lists were interspersed between the outbursts of creativity. Dipper skimmed through a few, fascinated by the unique twists of language the other used.

Dipper had always held a quiet respect and admiration of the other boy, especially for his artistic abilities. Wirt had a very subtle but deeply profound style, and Dipper often found himself appreciating it. He had to admit that he held rather fond feelings for the other, perhaps more than mere fondness.

He shook the thought, cheeks coloring slightly. Not like  _that_ , of course.

He wandered over to the cluttered desk, poking at the half-complete model train set that circled the desk. As he rolled the engine a few inches, he spotted a slip of paper wedged underneath where the toy had been, and a few words caught his eye.

_Cobalt Pine._

Intrigued at the possible allusion to his hat, he carefully slid the sheet out from underneath the tracks, his eyes skimming through the words as he suddenly became keenly aware of his heart starting to race.  
  
 _But amber eyes catch mine, and draw me in,_  
 _And thus I am ensnared within_  
 _The needles of this Cobalt Pine._  
 _But somehow I don't mind the pricks,_  
 _For love doth often sting with-_

The unfinished last line was hastily crossed out as though the author was more than displeased with it.

Strange, he thought. The words Wirt used... Could it indeed be a metaphor for-?

 _Nah,_ Dipper thought, shaking his head. He was probably reading too deep into it - how conceited of him.

His gaze wandered over to another cluster of crumpled pages, appearing as though they were rather hastily shoved under a heavy book. Glancing at the doorway to make sure he was still alone, he pulled the notes toward himself, flipping curiously through them. As typical of most poetry, the majority of these were vague and filled to the brim with metaphors, though Dipper couldn't help but notice a few similarities between himself and the object of admiration in these writings. Words and phrases such as "brunet" and "pine" and "dark circles underneath his eyes" came up far too often to be mere coincidences. Most of these works were short little stanzas, though there were a few longer, more complete ones. 

One of the lengthier pieces was clearly an allusion to a day they spent at a park, exploring the nearby woods. Dipper remembered it clearly, as he rarely found someone willing to go exploring with him so he treasured moments like those dearly, but he certainly didn't remember it like this - the poem was filled with elaborate descriptions of him, ranging from his basic personality traits and ending with the way the sunlight struck the curls in his hair.

To say the least, Dipper was undoubtedly charmed.

He couldn't recall a time when anyone had thought of him in such a light. He didn't even think of himself in such ways, quite the opposite in fact!

Entranced, he flipped to the bottom of the stack, finding a poem that covered both sides of the page.

This one actually had a title.

"Dipper."

The boy's heart fluttered, feeling his face heat up. Trying to control his breathing, he settled into the chair as his eyes raced hungrily through the stanzas, taking in every word. The way the lines flowed and the keen descriptions were so wonderful that Dipper found it hard to believe that someone could write something of such caliber about  _him_. Engrossed in the work was an understatement; by the time he reached the second page, he was practically breathing in the words.

So entranced was he that he failed to catch the approaching footsteps in the hallway.

"All right, I'm back! Sorry I took so long, the kettle takes forever," Wirt began to ramble as he entered the room, but upon seeing what Dipper had clutched in his hand nearly dropped the cups he was holding on the floor from embarrassment.

Dipper froze, dropping the half-crumpled papers as he mentally kicked himself – how could he have gotten so caught up with the poetry that he hadn't heard the other's approaching footsteps? The poetry that he really should not have been reading, his guilty conscience reminded him.

"Oh... Oh my God," Wirt stammered, trembling obviously. "I'm... I'm really sorry you had to find those, oh God, oh  _God_  this is terrible, how embarrassing, please don't read those they're awful." The boy shakily set the mugs of tea down, his face beet red, pushing Dipper aside gently as he hastily whisked the pages away.

Dipper simply looked dumbfounded, caught like a deer in the headlights. "No, no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been reading those, I'm really sorry, I know it's super personal but I just-"

"Oh, no, no, I should have hidden them better, I shouldn't have even  _written_  that junk in the first place, I'm so sorry if you're angry, I, I-" Wirt turned to flee, but Dipper grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

"It's my fault. I couldn't help myself. I saw a few lines and I just had to keep reading. You're a really good writer."

Wirt blinked. "Wait... You  _liked_  them? You're not like, repulsed or weirded out or anything?"

"No, I'm just... Really surprised that  _anyone_  would think about me like that. I'm really touched."

" _Touched_?"

"Yeah," Dipper said, a soft smile on his lips. "I really enjoyed them."

Wirt let out the breath he had been holding, his shoulders slumping slightly in relaxation. He took back a few steps to sit on his bed, holding his head in his hands, as though he wasn't quite sure what emotion he should be feeling. "Well, I'm... Glad you liked them. I was... Thinking about one day showing some of them to you, but I didn't know how you'd react so I figured it would be best if they never saw the light of day... I guess I can't take that route anymore."

"Well, you know how I'd react now," Dipper offered. After a beat of silence, he asked, "Maybe you could tell me more about them?"

Wirt finally cracked a smile.

"I'd love to."


End file.
